


A dangerous creature

by Callmepapi



Series: *Whumptober 2020* [29]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Roach, Seizures, Whumptober 2020, i made up a random monster for this, make that a fucking tag!, original monster content, soft Roach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27271762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmepapi/pseuds/Callmepapi
Summary: “And what would happen if I did get bit?” He asks.“The victim would at first feel faint, then they’d collapse. They’d be dazed, confused, and that’s when shaking starts - constant fits until their death. You can tell it’s an eruzier because the victim bleeds puss from their eyes, ears and nose. They’ll also have a constant agonising pain in their gut, so… don’t get fucking bit.”Day 29 of whumptober - seizures.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: *Whumptober 2020* [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947244
Kudos: 111





	A dangerous creature

**Author's Note:**

> I’m tired and I’m listening to Christmas music, here you go...
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated XD

“So the creature… what is it? Have you seen one before?” Geralt looks at Jaskier from where he’s walking, leading Roach and the bard to a suitable clearing that they can stop in for the night.

“It’s an eruzier, looks like a squirrel but it has fangs. Alderman said there’s one in this forest. We need to be careful and be on the lookout, they’re very territorial creatures - if it sees us in it’s home then it won’t be afraid to attack” Jaskier hums and turns his head to look at the woods around them.

“Hmm,... is it poisonous?”he asks, Geralt sighs then answers.

“Yes. Whatever you do, don't get bit.” Jaskier hums again, and just when Geralt thinks he’s achieved some blessed silence the bard speaks up.

“And what would happen if I  _ did _ get bit?” He asks.

“The victim would at first feel faint, then they’d collapse. They’d be dazed, confused, and that’s when shaking starts - constant fits until their death. You can tell it’s an eruzier because the victim bleeds puss from their eyes, ears and nose. They’ll also have a constant agonising pain in their gut, so… don’t get fucking bit.” Jaskier nods at him, mouth agape.

They stop in a small clearing in the eruzier’s forest. Geralt sling his swords onto his back and downs a small vial of cat.

“Well, have fun! Or… whatever, I suppose these jobs aren’t really fun, are they? Good luck?” Geralt hums, a small smile playing on his lips as he walks away into the dark woods.

Once the Witcher’s form is out of sight, jaskier turns to his pack, talking to Roach for company, “well, my lovely lady. What do you think there is to eat?” At roach’s annoyed huff Jaskier rolls his eyes and continues, “yes, yes, I know I should’ve had my dinner earlier but… well, one does not kiss and tell,” he smirks. The pack gets flung open, entirely unaware of the fact that it was already unbuckled. Jaskier’s pale hand reaches inside, hoping to the gods that there was some dried breath and bread, perhaps a little cheese.

“Bollocks!” He shouts, retracting his hand quickly from the pouch and buckling it shut. Something was fucking inside it, something alive and moving!

He inspected his finger - Two small holes bleeding sluggishly, the skin around it irritated and red. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he stumbled back until his back hit a tree, he sank down to the floor, wincing and all the while still holding his bleeding finger.

“Roach… I think we have a problem.”

}{

Geralt trudges back to their camp, tired and grumpy from an unsuccessful hunt. He finds his way by scent, following the trail of overly sweet jasmine perfume. At least he has Jaskier waiting for him, this night won’t be a total loss, at least if jaskier’s in the mood anyway.

But when he moves some branches to the side and casts a glance over their camp, he knows instantly that any late night dalliances are not going to be found here tonight.

Jaskier sits, his back against a thick oak tree, his body seizing and a trail of puss making its way down from his eyes, nose and ears. White froth dripping from his parted lips. Roach’s head is in Jaskier's lap, her ears turned to the side in distress and worry, her eyes look towards Geralt as he enters the small camp. There’s no fire, but Geralt can see quite clearly thanks to cat still being in effect.

“Fuck,” he sighs, kneeling beside Jaskier. A gurgled moan escapes the bard’s throat and Geralt is suddenly aware that Jaskier can still understand him, see him, and that he is in complete and utter agony.

“Fuck,” he says again, “…you’ll be alright. We just have to find the cure.” He looks around the camp before looking down at Roach, “Roach, where did the beast run off to?” He asks, frantic. The horse sighs and nods her head at the packs attached to her back, specifically the one that had a wriggling lump inside it.

Geralt, with a gloved hand, carefully unbuckles it and, with lightning fast reflexes that he trained for years to obtain at kaer morhen, he snatches the eruzier around the neck and lifts it out the pack.

Sure, it has the body of a squirrel, but it’s way uglier. Patches of bald skin around its body and fangs protruding from its lower jaw, as well as a pair of bulging yellow eyes. He twists its neck off, a grizzly but quick end, and kneels back down beside Jaskier.

“Jaskier,” a free hand moves to gently rub the bard’s thigh up and down, a small comfort, “I know you can hear me. I need you to try and show me where you were bitten, any sort of sign.” For a moment, there is nothing but the continuous seizing of jaskier’s body. The bard’s hand falls from where it was shaking in his lap and Geralt takes a few moments to realise that that  _ was _ the sign. Two small bleeding holes at the tip of his index finger.

“Good boy, Jaskier.” Geralt drips some blood from the beheaded eruzier into the wound. The only known cure for eruzier poisoning is the blood of the creature itself, elsewise most people die from it. But he’s definitely not going to tell that to Jaskier.

He moves closer to the bard, gripping his jaw in a firm hold and squeezing it open until he can drip most of the blood into the bard’s mouth. He holds Jaskier's jaw shut, telling him to swallow. It’s a moment of waiting for Geralt until he sees Jaskier’s throat bob, and only then does he allow himself to relax slightly. At least imminent death is off the agenda.

The seizing slows until it’s completely stopped, only Jaskier’s fingers twitch occasionally. Geralt’s eyes narrow as he watches head gently lurch up slightly then again more forcefully, and Geralt only has a moment to move jaskier’s head to the side as the bard vomits up a stomach-full of puss, blood and this afternoon’s lunch.

Jaskier moans weakly as Geralt drags him to the side, away from the stench of the puddle. He sets Jaskier in between his legs, the bard’s head resting against his chest, and listens to Jaskier's breathing even out into a deep, restful sleep, reminding himself to give Roach an extra special treat tomorrow; the horse joining Jaskier in rest.

  
  



End file.
